Redtail Rise the sleeper

war drums; the sound of distant thunder.

Avicus leaves the ridge in the paws of Masquerade and Redd and heads west, traveling down the mountain slope, bracing herself for what came next. it's a mix of relief and angst that touches her soul as the Rise comes into view, and she takes the long way round (though the least steep ascent up to the territory).

it should be out in the open, she thinks. where everyone still here can see and hear, smell and sense—whether it be growls or gasps, swears or swaths of crimson blood, staining the earth.

she calls for the pair, a challenge in her voice.

let them come. let it be here.

---

hours pass, and no response. she's spent the time in menial tasks—marking borders, cleaning caches, hunting small game.

Avicus shouts their name into the chilly air. the syllables shiver away

no reply.

so it's ambush, then. or cowardice.

time to ferret them out.

---

night falls, and then day again. bleary-eyed, weary-pawed, she stumbles inch by inch across her territory. vale to peak; tree to stream; corner to corner to corner. . .

she's incredulous. a bit downtrodden. she'd meant to seize Wealda by force, or die trying. this had been the writing on the wall since Lilia's refusal to back down.

and now. . .nothing?

she refuses to believe it.

onward

---

another night of dogged searching, and when dawn breaks once more, a ruddy woman with haunted eyes leaves the trees, sways into open field.

come @Redsky, she calls, and @Carrion, and @Watcher, and @Mulherin and @Masquerade and @Redd. come @Riley, and @Towhee Jr, if you still remain.

and— Avicus swallows both the lump in her throat and her burgeoning pride— @Augur, and @New Snow, and @Saturdays Sunrise.

now she will take stock of the wolves of this land.

her land. as Wealda.

for reference, the last part & call takes place tomorrow 11/11!